Bea V. Larsen . . . .Commentaries

Bea V. Larsen is a Senior Mediator at the Center for Resolution of Disputes in
Cincinnati, Ohio 
Bea V. Larsen

For a number of years Bea V. Larsen, senior mediator at the Center for Resolution of Disputes in Cincinnati, Ohio [www.cfrdmediation.com], presented weekly commentaries on WVXU radio, both on her professional work as a mediator and on more personal or general experiences. These broadcasts reached thousands of listeners in a number of midwestern states and elicited many comments. This new series of online commentaries will continue that tradition, now broadcast to the world via the internet. Comments, which can be posted directly to this blog, are warmly encouraged. More personal background information can be read in the "Introductions" category below.
 

Difficult Moments

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This entry was posted on 7/16/2006 6:00 AM and is filed under Personally Speaking.

    On a Sunday afternoon, I walked three city blocks through a gentle rain to spend a few hours in a favorite place, the public library. Planning to just browse for a while, I was surprised to hear music coming from the large atrium performance space. Before a seated audience, sat (and stood) a jazz trio, with a piano player spokesman interrupting the flow from time to time, to explain the interplay of the instruments, the improvisation. I wandered in and settled behind those already gathered.

    Glancing about at my fellow listeners, I saw young and old, some families, a few children playing at their parent's feet, paging through books. Colorful rain gear completed this inviting scene with its mix of downtown residents and visitors. And the music, drawing us all together.

    It filled me with pleasure.

   An older couple was seated just in front of me. The man casually put his arm about his wife's shoulder and pulled her closer. They exchanged brief comments and smiles now and then, during lulls in the music.

    As the minutes passed, my throat tensed and tears filled my eyes.

    In recent years, since the death of my husband, solitude has often been my companion. A welcome, comfortable companion. But here, quite unexpectedly, I felt painfully alone and found myself overwhelmed with sorrow. In the midst of the closeness of others, partners and families, in a setting not unlike one I'd shared so often with my loved one, imagining how much he would have enjoyed this experience and yearning for his touch, sadness eclipsed pleasure.

    I left, catching my breath and collecting myself on the walk home. Remembering it, even now, the tightness in my throat returns.

    Here's what I wonder. I often warm myself, when alone, choosing to recall happy memories of my dear lost love, feeling lucky to have shared so much of my life with him, maturing together, really. I sometimes reread letters written so many years ago and those are satisfying times. A contradiction? Out in public, with others about me, his absence must be accepted as the painful reality. I cannot pretend, not even for a moment.

    I understood my sadness in the midst of such an enjoyable experience, and also my need to leave. Do people who have suffered painful losses draw into themselves, some even isolate themselves, to avoid reliving even happy events which make the loss so much more present?
 

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    • 7/16/2006 10:11 PM Kathy wrote:
      You ask: Do people who have suffered painful losses draw into themselves, some even isolate themselves, to avoid reliving even happy events which make the loss so much more present? Each of us grieves differently. When someone we love dies, we feel mixtures of disbelief, sadness, numbness, loneliness, fear, anger, regret, guilt, despair and loss. Some of us hold the hurt feelings inside for a very long time. Still others grieve openly and easily. For many, we try to hide our tears of sadness in public, but our sorrow sweeps over us at unexpected times and nearly knocks us over like a crashing wave.
      Some of us hold our good memories near as a way of remaining close to our loved one, even in his or her death. Some of us avoid all thoughts, good or bad, of the deceased in order to avoid the pain. Some of us tell story after story of all the funny things our loved one ever did to drive the hurt away with humor. Some us sit at our computers and let our feeling flow through our fingers. Most of us have a combination of coping mechanisms. However we muddle through, there is no right way or wrong way to grieve: There is no right or wrong time to grieve. We do what we do to survive the loss of the person we love.
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    • 7/17/2006 11:38 AM Jerry wrote:
      Well done! Very moving and thought-provoking.
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    • 7/19/2006 5:58 PM Marie Bader wrote:
      Dear Bea, Isn't grief our ever present companion? If we have truly loved then it is both sweet in remembrences and painful with loss. I wonder if we shared our feelings more and invited others to share theirs over the loss of those we have loved - would the journey be easier? I don't know. I do think our culture shys from talking about death and loss and that we miss a great opportunity by avoiding the subject. Thank you for sharing. Marie
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      1. 7/21/2006 10:00 AM Bea Larsen wrote:
            Marie: For me, sharing feelings of all sorts, even the very intense and personal ones, contributes so meaningfully to my connection with others. Of course, this is true with trusted friends, but I find it is also true with those I know less well. From all I read, and I am currently reading and rereading a lot of Deborah Tannen's work, this yearning for connectedness is experienced far more by women than men, although I do have a few men friends who seem to value the sharing of important feelings. I believe, though, that  most of their sharing is with women rather than their male friends. Even though in the sharing the pain is re-experienced, I find it so enriching and also a great relief.

            Thank  you so very much for your comment.  Bea
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    • 7/24/2006 6:40 PM Paul Wenker wrote:
      Bea, eventhough my first wife passed away over fifteen years ago and I am happily remarried to a woman who knew my first wife, at certain times,feeling well up in me and I must cover my face or turn away lest someone ask what is wrong. Certain songs and events bring back memories. I suppose that these triggers remind you of the loss of a loved one but also of your humanity. Although there is a circle of grief that one travels, eventually one closes the door and remembers only the good and not the bad; however the good still makes one get a lump in the throat and eyes fill with tears. For me that is a reaffirmation.
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      1. 7/26/2006 10:35 AM Bea Larsen wrote:
        Paul: you so beautifully expressed my feelings as well as your own. It took some time before the intensity of the sorrow was replaced with the reaffirmation. Just yesterday, I happened to show a friend a photo of Leonard holding our first child as a tiny infant, and my friend asked if it didn't make me sad to look at it. Without a moment's pause, I answered "no" and surprised even myself. thank you so much for contributing your comment.

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    • 8/2/2006 3:14 PM Jack Sherman Jr. wrote:
      Bea, I was touched by this commentary. I don't know the answer to your question but I understand your response.
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